


One Step Up and One Step Down

by Sue Kelley (sknkodiak)



Category: Seven Brides for Seven Brothers (TV)
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sknkodiak/pseuds/Sue%20Kelley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The McFadden family has dealt with shattering loss before. But now they face losing  their youngest brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Step

One: The First Step…

Ford McFadden crept quietly down the hospital corridor, stepped on to the elevator, and pushed the button for the fifth floor. His heart was pounding hard in his chest and he gasped for air. Seemed like he'd been holding his breath for so long, ever since he'd slipped out of the McFadden farmhouse in the dark of the early morning hours and coasted the old International truck down the driveway before he'd fired up the noisy engine.

The elevators slid open onto the brightly lit and cheerful walls of Pediatrics. Ford found himself staring straight into the jungle scene both he and Evan had commented about the first day they'd seen it. A local artist had painted it, as a gift; it stretched all down the long wall to the nurse' station. Hidden animals crouched among the trees and long grasses. Not all of the animals were in their natural habitat: one scene showed a tiger wearing blue jeans sharing a Coke with a lion dressed in a tuxedo and sporting a crown on his head. Dolphins cavorted in the ponds with hippos playing volleyball. Two monkeys swung from flowery vines, apparently playing polo with a zebra and two kangaroos. All of the animals had almost human, smiling faces. The first day here, when it had been all about the waiting and the tests and everyone trying to hide how worried they were, Evan and Ford had spent hours staring at the mural, making lists of all the animals they saw, trying desperately not to think about why they were here.

He'd put on tennis shoes, instead of his boots, when he'd dressed in his dark bedroom, intent on not waking an exhausted Evan, or anyone else in the family. Those first terrified hours, they'd all stayed at the hospital, but after the second day oldest brother Adam had imposed order. Adam, Crane and Hannah took turns spending the night. Brian and Daniel split the days, with the other members of the family visiting as much as possible, while still keeping the ranch running. Evan and Ford came in the evenings, after school, after chores. Both of them wanted to be there more. Evan wasn't going to his rodeo classes after school. Ford barely paid attention in class. He was sure he'd flunked a pop quiz in Geometry that morning; for the first time in his life, he didn't even care. 

They'd all been here this afternoon, though, to hear the results of the last bunch of tests. The news had been both terrifying and wonderful.

Ford's little brother Guthrie was sick. Very sick. So sick the word "dying" was no longer just a nightmare lost in the grip of morning.

But Ford could save him. Ford _would_ save him.

The nurse looked up from her charting. She half rose, and then she seemed to recognize him, although Ford wasn't sure he'd ever seen her. She smiled. "You're here late. Or early, I guess. You by yourself?"

After the third day, the hospital had stopped even mentioning the words "Visiting hours."

Ford nodded, summoned up a smile from somewhere. "I couldn't sleep," he admitted, and that was true enough. "How is he?"

"He's asleep. Your older brother left a few minutes ago. Went to get coffee. He'll be back soon."

Adam was keeping sentry duty tonight over their youngest brother. It was Adam, even more than Guthrie, that Ford had been driven to see. "I'll just go down to Guthrie's room."

The nurse frowned. "Don't wake him," she cautioned. "He's a very sick boy."

Ford bit his lip. He wanted to rail at her, _Do you think I don't know that?_ But he didn't. They couldn't help it, he'd decided. Nurses must be trained to say stupid stuff like that. "I won't," he managed to say. He went down the hall to one of the last rooms from the nurse's station. He'd heard a couple of nurses talking, one day in the cafeteria, about how Guthrie was so sick he really should be closer to the station, but then one nurse had said, _"He's never alone. He's always got family with him. Some of the other kids on the floor don't."_

_"Funny, isn't it?" the other nurse had commented. "The one kid on the ward who is technically an orphan, and he has more family caring about him than the ones with parents and grandparents."_

The door was ajar. Ford slipped in. Almost all the lights in the room were dark, just the light above the bed was glowing. Ford tiptoed through the room and slid into the chair by the bed. He studied his sleeping brother. Guthrie looked even worse than he had that afternoon. The doctors had said they were keeping the worst of the pain at bay with medication, but as toxins built up he'd be more uncomfortable. Guthrie had had two dialysis treatments so far. It had almost destroyed Ford when his little brother broke down in tears hearing he would have to have more of them. Guthrie was a tough little guy. He'd had to be, growing up with six older brothers. It took a lot to make him cry.

Ford slid his hand over Guthrie's, feeling the abnormal puffiness in his fingers. More signs of ESRD: end stage renal disease. Ford had stayed late at school one day, doing research. He still couldn't believe Guthrie--his baby brother, who was only twelve years old--was in "end stage" anything.

"Ford? What are you doing here?"

Adam's voice was hushed, in deference to their sleeping brother, but still Ford was startled. He swung around in the chair to see his oldest brother leaning against the door. Honestly, Adam didn't look much better than Guthrie. Worry and exhaustion had drawn harsh lines on the oldest McFadden's handsome face.

When Ford didn't say anything, Adam frowned. "Ford? What's going on? Did anybody come with you?"

Ford shook his head. "They were all asleep. I came on my own. I have to talk to you."

Adam sighed. He took a sip from the steaming Styrofoam cup in his hand. "I hope you left a note," he said wearily. "Brian and Hannah'll be up in a few hours, and I don't them to have to worry about you, too."

Ford shook his head. He hadn't left a note, hadn't wanted to take the time and run the risk someone would wake up. "They'll figure out where I am," he said, because, really, where else would he be?

Adam looked down at Ford's hand holding Guthrie's, and some of the lines eased from his face. "Look, Ford, I think I know why you’re here."

"You do?" Ford asked, surprised.

"Yeah." Adam came farther into the room, put his cup down on the bedside table, and rested his hand on Ford's blond hair. "I know all this is frightening. Especially what we found out today. But, Ford, you don't have to worry. I told you, we'll make the decision that works best for everybody. It doesn't have to be you."

Ford stared at his older brother. "What are you talking about? You think I'm here because I don't want--you think I'm a coward?"

"Of course not!" There was no mistaking the conviction in Adam's tone, even if his voice was barely above a whisper. "But it's okay to be scared. I'm scared. And you have your whole life--"

Ford had to interrupt. Adam was sounding just like Daniel had, earlier this evening. "No. I mean, you're wrong. I…I'm the one who needs to do it. I want to give Guthrie one of my kidneys."

Adam passed a weary hand in front of his face. "I know you do," he said calmly, like he just hadn't told Ford he didn't have to be the one, not one minute before. "But Ford, it's not your decision."

"The hell it's not!" Ford couldn't ever remember cussing at his oldest brother. By the look of shock on Adam's face, he couldn't remember it ever happening, either. Shooting a look at the bed to make sure he hadn't woken Guthrie up, Ford went on in a whisper. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Adam. You know that. But Daniel, Evan and I are the closest matches to Guthrie. It needs to be one of us. And…we decided it would be me."

"Really," Adam drawled. "And you drove all the way into Sonora at three o'clock in the morning to tell me what the three of you decided."

"Yes!" Ford insisted. "I--we wanted to tell you right away. So you can tell the doctors first thing, and they can schedule the surgery and--and Guthrie can start getting better." He heard his own voice break and dropped his head before Adam could see the tears in his eyes.

Too late. The oldest McFadden came closer and wrapped his arms around Ford, hugging him tightly. "You're a good brother, Ford," he whispered. Then he pulled away and stared down into Ford's eyes. "So what criteria did the three of you use to decide who would donate?"

"Yeah, I'd love to hear that too," said a new voice from the doorway.

Ford and Adam jerked around to see Daniel and Evan--both of them looking tired and pissed off--in the door. Behind them loomed Crane and Brian. Hannah pushed past all of them and slipped into Adam's free arm.

Adam raised his eyebrows. "What are you all doing here?"

"I woke up and little brother, there, wasn't in his bed," Evan volunteered, nodding at Ford. 

"And the rest of us woke up when he went pounding on all the doors looking for you," Daniel told Ford.

"We were worried, Ford," Hannah said softly. 

"You could have left a note," Crane pointed out.

Daniel folded his arms and glared at Ford. "Now, it seems like you were telling big brother here that _we--_ " he pointed at himself and Evan "all agreed that you were going to do this. Which is a surprise to me, because I thought we all agreed it should be _me."_

"Like hell we did!" Evan fired back, glaring at both of them.

"Language!" Adam snapped, and then he blushed when they all stared at him, because, _really!_

"What's going on?" asked a tiny voice from the bed. Everyone turned to look, and Guthrie was awake, blinking sleepily. He looked around and saw all of them and his eyes lit up.

"Okay, this is just too much." The night nurse bustled in then, squeezing past McFaddens until she got to the bed. "You're supposed to be asleep, young man," she said, sounding for all of the world like a parent. "And all of you--you can't all be here at night. We have to think of the other patients."

Ford couldn't figure out what the other children on the floor had to do with it. This was _his_ family. "You know I'm right," he begged, looking at all of them but especially at Daniel and Evan.

"I'm the oldest!" Daniel insisted.

"I'm the closest match!" Evan fired back.

"By one half a percentage point! A difference that doesn't make any difference isn't a difference at all!"

Brian shook his head. "Okay, it's way too early in the morning to try to figure out what that means."

"Why are you fighting?" Guthrie broke in, looking around wide-eyed. 

That small, frightened voice froze everyone in their tracks. The nurse shook her head at all of them and leaned over Guthrie. "Are you hurting, sweetie? I'll get some pain medicine." She started to leave the room. "Your family can say good night while I'm gone, because when I get back, I only want to see one, or at the most, two of you here." She lowered her voice, hissing, "If you all are going to argue, take it out to the waiting room! He doesn't need to see his family falling apart right now."

There was silence when she left.

"Why are you fighting?" Guthrie asked again. He looked around and swallowed hard. His eyes were too bright when he asked, "Is it about me?"

"Of course not," Brian started, coming to the other side of the bed.

"Don’t lie to him," Crane snapped. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "In a way, it's about you, Guthrie. But no one's angry with you. We just all want you to get better." 

Ford thought that the glares he'd been getting from Evan and Daniel were _nothing_ compared to what Brian and Crane were exchanging above Guthrie's head.

"Okay, that's enough," Hannah said. "You all need to talk this out, and stop trying to pick fights with each other. It’s not helping anything." She looked up at her husband then. "I'll stay here with Guthrie," she said gently. "I know you wanted to wait until morning to hash this out, but everybody's here and no one is getting any sleep, anyway."

Adam unclenched his jaw long enough to give her a loving smile. Then he pointed to the door. "All of you, out. Since we're going to do this now, let's listen to the nurse and go to the waiting room."

"But I want to know what's going on!" Guthrie implored, reaching out to catch Crane's sleeve. "Why are you all mad?"

"Yeah, _Crane,_ why don't you explain that to him?" Brian said acidly.

"Stop it!" Adam went toe to toe with Brian. "I know you're scared. But this isn't helping!"

Brian stared at him for a second, then dropped his gaze. "You’re right. I'm just…" he took a deep breath. "Crane," he started.

"I know," the third brother said. "Me too." He looked at Guthrie. "We're all worried about you, you know, Guth," he said quietly. "And we all feel helpless. So we're yelling at each other. But we'll stop, I promise." He leaned over and kissed their youngest on his forehead. He stood up and Hannah slipped into his place.

_To be continued...._


	2. Two Steps Up...

_Two: Two Steps Up…_

Later, everyone would look back and remember things that didn't seem all that important at the time, but would take on horrifying significance as a pattern of events. But as far as Daniel McFadden was concerned, it all started with the eggs.

_Four weeks earlier… ___

It was a frigidly cold morning that Saturday. Daniel was sleepy at breakfast; his band had just accepted a gig playing Friday and Saturday nights for a month in a well-known bar in Sonora. Last night had been their first performance and he'd been thrilled with how responsive the crowd had been, especially when he sang a new song he and Crane had finished just the week before. The job paid well, and it was a whole different crowd than the folks around Murphys and the other small towns in the area. Best of all, his oldest brother, Adam--who often seemed disapproving of Daniel's desire for a professional music career--had been encouraging about the job and hadn't even muttered a concern about the distance to Sonora and how late Daniel would be getting home.

Daniel appreciated that Adam was making a real effort to be supportive, and he'd wanted to return the favor by showing his work on the ranch wouldn't be affected by the late hours. Still, he was dragging this morning. The band had played until well after midnight, and Daniel had been riding high on the good vibes and couldn't calm down enough to sleep until almost four a.m. Fortunately, although ranch work never ceased, it did slow down a little on a cold winter morning. Rather than having to rise between five and six, Daniel got to sleep in until almost seven. After breakfast, he and Crane started shoveling manure out of the barn, with Daniel excitedly telling Crane about the evening. He'd been a little disappointed no one from the family had been able to come to his show the night before, but Crane and Brian both promised to come that night. And Daniel knew his sister in law, Hannah, was working on Adam to go along as well.

Brian and Adam had saddled up after breakfast and ridden out to check on the cattle. They'd brought the whole herd down a few weeks ago, just before the first snow of winter, and pastured them in the low lands. The two oldest McFaddens were checking on the animals, and to make sure the ponds weren't frozen over and that dry feed was available. Their prize bull was in his own pasture near the barn.

Evan was exercising his talent with animals, soothing Tartan. The spirited Appaloosa was new to the ranch, and with foal, due in early spring. She'd been restless the last few days, especially since the sweeping winds had scoured the snow clean from the land. She seemed to want to get out and run, but in her condition they wanted to keep her safe near the house, so Evan had taken her for a short walk and was now brushing her and talking to her in a low voice.

Ford was taking care of the goats and sheep, rationing out feed and suffering crowding and bumping from the hungry animals. Guthrie was looking for eggs, which was actually easier in the cold weather than warm. During the winter the chickens pretty much stayed in the barn. In warmer weather they could be anywhere in the barn or the adjacent yard. Still there were always one or two broody old hens that would hide their nests. "We should keep them in a coop. Or a henhouse, or something," Guthrie groused, coming from Diablo's stall with three eggs in his hand. He gently laid them in the basket with the others.

What kind of moronic hen would make a nest in Diablo's stall, Daniel couldn't imagine.

"Looks like you've probably got them all," Crane mentioned, glancing into the basket.

"One more place to check," Guthrie said, heading for the ladder to the hayloft.

"Oh, come on," Daniel protested. "How would a chicken get up there?"

"They can fly!"

"Not that far!"

Guthrie peeked over the edge of the loft. He held up his hand, showing two eggs. A cocky grin lit his face. "Who's hunting these eggs, Daniel? Me or you?" Then he vanished back into the loft.

"I wish we could go along tonight and cheer for you," Ford said, standing up and pushing goats out of the way.

"Or throw rotten eggs at you," Evan teased, closing the stall door behind himself.

From up in the loft, they could hear Guthrie protest, "We don't have rotten eggs!"

"Tomatoes, then!" Evan shouted back. He turned to Daniel. "Hey, you know I'm just kidding, don't you?"

"Yeah, sure I do. I wish you could be there, too," Daniel admitted. "But they're pretty strict about the no one under twenty-one thing. It's not like around here."

That was one of the reasons Daniel had been so surprised, and a little leery, when the manager of The Huddle in Sonora had called and offered his band the job, without even an audition. Daniel himself was under twenty-one, and so were two other band members. Dan Hagan, the manager, had explained he had heard Daniel and his band at The Alamo.

To be honest, Daniel had almost refused the job then and there. His ego--not to mention the rest of him--had taken a real bruising when he'd realized the only reason The Alamo had hired them was to set up Daniel for a drunk and disorderly charge. All to derail Adam in his run for sheriff. Even the arrest of the owner, the crooked sheriff, and Jocko and his gang of goons hadn't done much to ease his guilt. He hated being embarrassed, and even more he hated being used as a patsy to hurt one of his brothers. The bruises on his body had healed but the wounds to his soul would take a little longer.

But Hagan had explained he hadn't been in the bar that night, he'd been in earlier, when Daniel had been auditioning. He liked what he'd heard. So when his regular weekend band had taken off for a better gig in the Bay area, his first thought had been of Daniel.

Guthrie appeared at the edge of the loft again. "Okay, Ford, get ready to catch!"

Ford moved into position and spread his hands up as if he was going to catch a baseball. "I'm ready!"

"What are you two--" Crane started, just as Guthrie started dropping eggs. His eyes widened as Ford caught each one neatly, gently putting the unbroken egg in the basket before getting ready to catch another. All in all, five eggs were transferred this way, with not a crack to be seen.

"All right!" Evan applauded. He shot a look at Daniel. "Don't remember this being so fun when you and I were the ones hunting eggs."

"I don't remember you ever going up into the hayloft, either," Daniel retorted, seeing Guthrie swing his legs over to the ladder.

Daniel happened to be looking straight at his youngest brother, so he saw what happened. One second Guthrie was on the ladder, both hands and feet secure…and the next he was falling through the air, slamming into the hard ground with a crash and a pained groan that made the hair on the back of Daniel's neck rise.

_"Guthrie!"_ Ford yelled, jumping over the basket of eggs to get to his brother's side. Somehow Daniel got there too, although he didn't remember either dropping the shovel or moving. Evan was already on his knees beside the youngest McFadden, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him up.

"Don't move him!" Crane snapped. He dropped down beside Guthrie, making Evan let go. "Somebody go get Hannah," he commanded, placing his hands on either side of Guthrie's head. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "It's okay, Guthrie. You just got the wind knocked out of you." He looked up, apparently realizing the other three were still standing there. "Go get Hannah!" He ordered again.

Daniel was closest to the door, so he turned and ran, all the way from the barn and slammed into the kitchen door. Some part of his mind noted the good warm smell of soup and heard Hannah humming a little song as she laid out fixings for sandwiches. She whirled when the door slammed against the wall, though, saying, "Hey, you don't--Daniel, what's wrong?"

Daniel gasped for air; he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, too, when he'd seen Guthrie fall. "Guthrie fell. In the barn. Crane said to get you," he hurried. But because Hannah was only wearing a lightweight sweater and jeans, he added, "No, it's freezing out there; get your coat."

It seemed to take forever to find Hannah's coat and a warm stocking cap. Even longer before they were back in the barn and Daniel could hear Guthrie protesting, "I'm fine, Crane!"

Crane wasn't listening, telling Guthrie, "Move your legs. Slowly. Does that hurt? Does your back hurt?"

Hannah went straight to the group huddled around Guthrie. "Okay, guys," she said calmly, although Daniel could tell she was worried. "Back off and give him some room."

Guthrie's face lit up when he saw her. "Hannah, tell Crane I'm fine. I just lost my grip."

"You hit the floor pretty hard," Ford stated, his face almost as pale as his hair.

"Did you hit your head?" Hannah asked, running her hands through Guthrie's thick hair.

"Don't think so." Guthrie was calmer now, his eyes following Hannah. He managed a weak smile. "You're all acting like no one ever fell out of the hay loft before."

The other McFadden's exchanged rueful looks, because Guthrie was right. Probably everybody but Hannah had fallen from the loft before, some of them more than once or twice.

"Most of us don't hit so hard we bounce," Evan said. The words were teasing but he still looked pretty scared.

"I'm fine," Guthrie said again. "Can I get up now? It's cold down here on the floor."

Daniel saw Hannah and Crane exchange glances, then Hannah nodded. "I think he's okay. He's probably oing to have some pretty spectacular bruises though. Guthrie, you let Crane and Evan help you up, then you and I are going to the house and I'm going to look you all over."

Guthrie blushed. "Hannah!" he protested. "Can't Crane do it? I mean, you're a girl."

Hannah laughed. All of them relaxed then, Evan and Daniel both grinning and Ford looking even more sympathetic. 

"I'm glad you realize that, cowboy," Hannah teased. "And yes, if it will protect your dignity, Crane can help you take a shower and check you for any protruding bones then."

Guthrie muttered something about how he knew how to take a shower by _himself,_ thank you very much, but he let Crane and Evan lift him from the floor and set him on his feet. "Can you make it to the house, squirt?" Evan asked, his grin wide and no doubt relieved at seeing little brother standing up on his own, albeit with Crane still holding him. "I can give you a piggy back ride."

"I'm almost as tall as you!" Guthrie protested, which was so far from the truth and yet was so reminiscent of something they'd all said at one time or another that everyone laughed.

 

 

Crane reported later that Guthrie wasn't even that bruised, making Evan reiterate his "bouncing" comment. Still, Daniel remained nervous until lunch, which was eaten later than usual. Seeing Guthrie dive into the hot, thick soup in his bowl eased Daniel's last fear.

"What's all in this soup?" Brian asked Hannah as he accepted a second helping and made another sandwich. 

"Beans, potatoes, leftover steak, onions, macaroni," Hannah ticked off on her fingers. 

"Leftover steak?" Evan wondered. "Since when do we ever have leftover anything?"

"Guess I'm just finally learning how much to cook for you hungry yahoos," Hannah smiled. "Couple of you left meat on your plates. And there was one whole steak left over."

"Going vegetarian, again, Crane?" Adam quipped. At that they all roared with laughter, save Hannah, who didn't know about the time Crane came home from UC Davis for Thanksgiving insisting he was no longer a "carnivore". That resolve lasted until the turkey feast was served, when Crane had dived in as enthusiastically as any other McFadden. He'd later admitted there was a girl at school--a vegetarian--that he'd been trying to get close to.

Adam told the story now, and then Crane added, "And after all that, I got one date with her before she dumped me for some lumberjack from Washington, who ate a whole slab of bacon for breakfast. Last I heard, they got married and were running a barbeque place near Olympia!"

It was only later, when Daniel was helping Hannah clear the table, that he noticed Guthrie's bowl was still half-full of soup and he couldn't remember seeing the boy eat a sandwich. Then he shrugged. Guthrie might have survived his fall from the ladder okay, but he was probably still shaken up. _'He'll make up for it at supper,'_ Daniel thought, and then started worrying again about the gig that night in Sonora.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to May for the beta


	3. Three: One Step Down

Three: One Step Down

At seventeen, Evan was the only McFadden to have inherited his mother's strawberry-blonde hair. Although, to be honest, he'd always thought it was more "strawberry"--red--than blonde. 

He'd be the first one to admit he'd inherited the temper that went along with it. Not that he could ever remember his mom as having as short a fuse as he did. But still, although he idolized his older brothers, he much preferred his temperament to any of theirs.

Evan was actually one of the most laid-back of the family. He had the fiery temper, sure, but his recovery time was almost instantaneous. He couldn't hold a grudge to save his life. And he would much rather get mad and have it over with--even if it did involve him having his foot in his mouth half the time--than brooding about it for days on end.

Adam and Brian both had the hair-trigger temper, Brian a lot worse than Adam. Or maybe becoming a de-facto parent at eighteen had given Adam more patience. But Adam got mad when he was scared. Or when a situation was out of his control. And then he felt awful for losing his cool.

Brian had hoof-in-mouth disease far worse than Evan had ever thought about. And boy, could he hold a grudge. Sometimes he was still holding said grudge long after he could remember what he had been mad about initially. Case in point, Wheeler, his whole family, and any of his employees. Just having Brian and one or two of Wheeler's men in town at the same time made the sheriff nervous.

Crane came across as calm even when he wasn't. He had far more patience than Brian, but he worried like a first time mare with her first colt. Evan had always been amazed Crane had actually stayed in college long enough to get his degrees. Adam and Brian practically had to hog-tie him to the truck every time he had to go back to school. He worried about who was paying the bills, who was keeping the books, who was watching over the "youngsters", and probably most about Daniel. 

Then there was Daniel. Evan was energetic; Daniel was almost manic. Music, songwriting, singing, ranch work, repairs, spelunking, sports, drying-out drunk singers, girls--you name it, Daniel seemed to have an interest in it. Maybe that was what made him a good singer-songwriter, Evan wasn't sure. But he always thought it must be exhausting to be Daniel. 

Daniel, Evan and Ford had all been born within a two-year span. The three of them were close, even though they were all so different. Like Crane, Ford had a long fuse on his temper and hardly ever lost it. He was the most bashful and quiet of the family, but he could stand up and pull his weight. When he thought about it, which wasn't often, Evan figured Daniel and Ford were his two best friends in the world.

Evan wasn't a worrier. Why worry when you had your whole family to support you?

Now, as he let himself into the warm kitchen, he absorbed the quiet in the house. The McFadden house was just not usually quiet. Brothers would be wrestling eating or arguing or just talking loudly; there was usually singing or dancing or something to do with music. Hannah held her own well in the midst of so many males. 

But tonight, the quiet was due to the fact only the three youngest McFaddens were home. All the rest had gone into Sonora again, to listen to Daniel and his band play their second weekend at The Huddle. Evan had gone down to the barn to take one last check of the animals. Ford, he knew, was up in their shared room working on a homework assignment, something for History or English, Evan couldn't remember exactly although Ford had been talking about it all day.

Guthrie was…well, Evan wasn't exactly sure but he was in the house somewhere. Probably keeping Ford company, or maybe he'd gone into Adam and Hannah's room to watch a program on the old black and white portable up there. The big TV downstairs hadn't worked for years, and they never seemed to have the money to replace it. Guthrie probably watched far less television than any kid in his class. Evan couldn't blame him for taking advantage of the chance to catch a show.

But Guthrie wasn't watching TV. Evan stopped in the laundry room, to grab a pile of clean jeans to take upstairs, and as he came into the living room, he almost fell over the pullout bed. Because it was pulled out, and Guthrie was curled up on it, still wearing the clothes he'd had on all day, fast asleep.

Evan stopped, frowning. He dropped the jeans on a nearby chair and stood with his hands on his hips, curious about the scene in front of him.

It wasn't like there was anything wrong with Guthrie taking a nap at seven-thirty on a Saturday evening. They lived on a ranch, after all. The days could be long and the work exhausting at times.

Except… Guthrie never napped. Like Evan, he was a high-energy kid who fought against naps even back when he was of napping age. One of Evan's most vivid memories of his mother--he sometimes thought it might have even happened on the last day of her life--was coming home from school with Daniel to find their mom up in their room. Ford was sleeping in his bed. Baby Guthrie, though, was wide-awake, sitting in his mother's lap while she was singing lullabies to him. Evan remembered she'd looked right at him, her face harried, and said "Evan, your baby brother is exactly like you. He won't go to sleep for anything!"

Adam and Brian eventually gave up trying to get Guthrie to take a nap, especially after Ford was in school all day and not around to keep Guthrie company. And they gave up trying to get him to go to bed early, as well. Guthrie usually fell asleep while his brothers were singing, but sometimes he stayed up until ten, when everyone went to bed. After he outgrew his crib, he slept on a pallet in Adam and Brian's room, but when he was eight he decided he wanted his "own room" and moved down to the sofa bed under the stairs in the living room. After that, he never went to bed earlier than the rest of the family, since the rest of the family was in "his" bedroom.

The only time Evan could remember Guthrie falling asleep this early was when he was sick. Like when that contaminated water in the creek had poisoned him…

Evan eyed his little brother carefully. He didn't look sick, not really, but there was something not quite right. Evan leaned over to check him for a fever. Before he could touch his face, Guthrie sighed in his sleep and turned over, his back now to Evan. His tee shirt pulled up--and Evan could see huge black bruises on his lower back.

"Guthrie!" he yelled, alarmed. 

Guthrie jerked awake, his eyes snapping wide open and scared. "What?" he gasped. 

"What happened to your back?" Evan demanded.

Guthrie just blinked at him, his eyes still huge and his cheeks flushed.

"What happened to your back?" Evan insisted on knowing, hearing his own voice shrill. He tried to calm himself. "Guthrie, you've got bruises all over your back. What happened?"

Guthrie sighed and flopped back down on his pillow. "Jeez, Evan, what's wrong? I fell. You should know, you were there, remember?"

"That was a week ago, Guthrie!"

"What’s going on?" Ford interrupted. Evan turned around to see his blond brother standing behind him. When he had come downstairs, Evan didn't know.

"Look at his back," he urged Ford.

Guthrie yanked his shirt back down before Ford could take a look. "It's just some bruises," he insisted. His eyelids were heavy, now that the fear was gone, and he pulled up the sheet and blanket and curled on his side. "I'm sleepy."

"You're sleepy?" Ford sounded as shocked as Evan had been. "Guthrie, you never go to bed this early. Not unless--are you sick?" He reached down and placed his hand on Guthrie's forehead.

Their youngest brother shoved it away. "I'm not sick. Sheesh, a guy can't even go to bed early without--"

"You're awfully warm," Ford worried.

"You think he's got a fever?" Evan asked.

"Yeah, maybe." Ford stepped away. "I'll get the thermometer. Do you know where it is?"

"Medicine cabinet upstairs, maybe. I don't know. Who was the last one sick?"

"I'm not sick!" Guthrie whined. And then Evan knew he was sick, because Guthrie only used that tone when something was wrong. It didn't make sense that those black bruises could be from a week ago. Shouldn't they be healing by now? Changing colors?

Ford sat down on the edge of the bed and patted Guthrie's shoulder. "Hey," he said soothingly, "It's okay. Maybe you just picked up a bug or something. Why don't you go upstairs and sleep in our room tonight? Get your pajamas on and I'll get you some aspirin. And do you want something to drink?"

Guthrie unsealed his eyes and looked up at Ford hopefully. "Hot chocolate?"

Not for the first time, Evan envied Ford the way he could calm down a situation. "Hey, Guthrie," he said, taking a leaf from Ford and making his voice as gentle as possible. "Can you show Ford your back? Please? I'm not ragging on you, I'm just a little worried."

"I guess." Guthrie heaved a put-upon sigh and sat up in bed, pulling up his shirt. Evan saw him wince.

Ford must have noticed, too. His eyes grew larger as he took in the black contusions marring the smooth skin of their little brother's back. He ran light fingers over the swelling. "Does it hurt?"

Guthrie twisted back around and stared at him like he was an idiot. "Yeah, duh, it hurts!"

Ford laughed. "Okay, I guess that was a stupid question." He gave Guthrie a little hug. "Go on upstairs and I'll make your hot chocolate."

Guthrie regarded them suspiciously. "Whose bed do I sleep in?"

"Mine," Evan answered quickly. "I'll sleep in the sleeping bag on the floor. Or, heck, Brian probably won't come home until tomorrow, maybe I'll sleep down here." 'The better to catch Adam and Hannah when they get home,' he silently added.

Guthrie pulled himself out of the bed. He seemed to have some trouble getting his feet under him, but regained his balance before either of his older brothers could help him. "I want marshmallows on my hot chocolate, okay?"

"Sure. I think there's some in the pantry," Ford answered, and Evan had to wonder how he knew that?

Guthrie seemed to take a long time on the stairs. Evan started up to help him but Ford caught his arm and shook his head. When Guthrie had finally disappeared into their bedroom, Ford said, "He's really hot, Evan. And I don't like the look of those bruises. Crane said he wasn't hardly bruised at all when he checked him after he fell."

Evan swallowed down the unaccustomed feeling of worry. "You think we should call that place Daniel is playing at? Hannah left the number in the kitchen. Or maybe we should just call Doc Meade?"

Ford shrugged and looked as helpless as Evan felt. They might be older than Guthrie but they were numbers five and six in a big family. There was always someone older than them around to make decisions when someone was sick.

One of them needed to do something but Evan couldn't figure out what exactly to do. Guthrie was walking and talking and insisting he was fine; calling out Doc Meade on a Saturday night would be expensive, even though their family doctor would no doubt come right over. 

Ford rubbed his forehead. "I don't think…you don't think it's that serious, do you? I hate to bother Hannah and Adam; they were really looking forward to going out tonight. And you know, if they come rushing back here, Daniel and Crane and Brian are going to know about it too…"

"And Daniel is nervous enough about this gig," Evan finished for him. He hesitated. He could tell Ford was worried, too, about doing the wrong thing. "Maybe, we should just keep an eye on him. Take his temperature and give him some aspirin and who knows, he may be fine before everyone gets home." Evan tried desperately to believe that, and to convince Ford. 

He must have succeeded at the latter, because his younger brother nodded and looked relieved. "I’ll go find the thermometer and the aspirin. You get the hot chocolate duty. And Evan, try not to let the milk boil over this time."

Evan made a face. "Hey, you promised him marshmallows! Do we have any?"

"I think there were some left over from that sweet potato casserole Hannah made on Sunday. Check the pantry."

7Bf7B

Guthrie fell asleep before even finishing his hot chocolate--with marshmallows; Evan had found them back behind the mason jars of pickles. Ford announced unhappily that his temperature was one-o-one. But Guthrie took the aspirin and then seemed to be sleeping peacefully, so Evan and Ford decided not to push the panic button. 

Eventually, Ford fell asleep too, his English report forgotten on the desk. Evan couldn't sleep though. As much as he tried to tell himself everything was fine, something inside him was telling him it wasn't fine.

He gave up trying to sleep and went downstairs. It was well after midnight and Evan hoped Adam and Hannah, at least, would be home soon. Daniel wouldn't come in until later, after the band had broken down their equipment. Evan had helped do that before, and he knew how long it could take. Crane would probably stay and help. And Brian, well, knowing Big Brother, he'd have found himself a lady friend for the night and they probably wouldn't see him until after breakfast.

Evan would have welcomed any of them home to take the worry off his shoulders, but he was really hoping for Hannah and Adam. For most of Evan's life Adam had been the one who handled emergencies. And, although she hadn't even been in the family a year, Hannah was trained in first aid and emergency procedure and besides, sometimes it was like she'd always been there.

Evan was sitting up on the sofa in the darkened living room when lights from an approaching vehicle swept the room. He sighed in relief. Someone was here to take over.


End file.
